“He drove slowly down Main Street, pointing out the businesses that would have been around in 1988. They wove their way to Westridge Elementary School and parked in front of a “Children Crossing” sign. Ryanne got out of the vehicle and made her way toward the school grounds, her hair aflame in the afternoon sun. He caught up with her at the chain-link fence and gently placed her new coat over her shoulders, hiding the Kevlar vest underneath. Her fingers were curled around the chain link,... and she was gazing at the playground, her expression distant and unreadable. The image struck a chord deep within him. The girl on the outside, forever looking in. The bell rang and kids swarmed down the steps, laughing and chattering. They made their way to the bike racks, or wandered in small clusters to the sidewalk for a short walk home, or made their way to a waiting parent parked at the curb. Had any of those parents been Ryanne’s classmates, once upon a time?MoreLessRead More Read Less
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